


Day 1: Scarecrow

by mrs_d



Series: Do What I Wantober 2020 [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:34:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26748130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_d/pseuds/mrs_d
Summary: All it needed was a scarecrow, or a wooden sign that read Home is Where the Heart is, and Chloe could forget about the 59-year-old woman sprawled across the dusty floor inside, dead from at least 16 stab wounds to her torso.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Series: Do What I Wantober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947496
Comments: 7
Kudos: 97





	Day 1: Scarecrow

“Hell of a nice place to die,” Lucifer said, sidling up next to her. “And believe me, I’d know.”

Chloe rolled her eyes, but privately she agreed. The garden shed where they’d found Mrs. Sheetle early this morning was painted to look exactly like an old-fashioned barn, with red boards and white trim. Combined with the dead leaves that formed a carpet of yellow and brown that crunched under her boots, the scene was like something out of a picture book. All it needed was a scarecrow, or a wooden sign that read _Home is Where the Heart is,_ and Chloe could forget about the 59-year-old woman sprawled across the dusty floor inside, dead from at least 16 stab wounds to her torso. 

“A lot less pretty in there,” said Ella, emerging from the shed. Even she had a hard time squeezing out through the small door, especially given the way she was protecting her camera with both hands. Chloe worried about how she and her towering partner would fare.

“Find anything?” she asked, delaying the inevitable task of forcing Lucifer into uncomfortably close quarters. 

“Nothing unusual,” Ella replied. “No murder weapon, but given the size of the wounds, I’m thinking it was a pair of clippers, or maybe even a trowel.”

“Weapon of convenience, then,” Chloe mused. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and noticed that Lucifer had wandered away already. His flask in hand, he was peering down his nose at the white wicker furniture on the small back porch.

“Yep,” Ella agreed, bringing Chloe’s focus back. “The back door of the house is broken, so if I had to guess, I’d say this was a robbery gone wrong. If Mrs. Sheetle was out back, maybe the thief-slash-murderer thought she wasn’t home, then got caught in the act.”

Chloe nodded. It was as plausible a theory as any other, but it didn’t sit right with her. “There are nicer places on this block,” she said, turning to take in the house, which wasn’t overly large or ostentatious. “Why would she be targeted?”

“Well,” Ella began, but a loud laugh cut her off. 

Chloe turned. It was Lucifer, of course, and he was obviously very amused by something on Dan’s phone. 

“Daniel, I’m flattered,” he said sweetly, “but, really, you don’t have to.”

Dan snatched his phone back while Chloe made her way across the yard to join them. “I wouldn’t,” he muttered. “And it wasn’t supposed to be funny, man.”

“What wasn’t?” Chloe asked. Dan handed her his phone. The web browser was open to an image of a bouquet of roses so dark that they almost looked black. Chloe glanced up again, confused. 

“Scroll down,” said Lucifer helpfully.

She did, and saw immediately why he’d laughed. _Devil’s Bloom,_ the text read. Chloe’s eyes went wide at the price.

“Our victim was the only person in this city who sold those,” Dan explained. “They’re a custom variety, and they’re the hippest thing in LA right now.”

“Nobody says _hip_ anymore, Daniel,” Lucifer pointed out.

Dan ignored him. “Every swanky party has these flowers. Celebrity weddings, premieres, you name it. There’s even a waitlist for funeral arrangements.”

“So Mrs. Sheetle was a florist for the stars?” asked Ella, squinting at Dan’s phone over Chloe’s shoulder. 

Dan nodded. “Obviously she was lot wealthier than we thought,” Chloe concluded.

“Net worth was 2.6 million,” Dan confirmed.

Ella let out a low whistle. Chloe looked up at the modest house with new eyes. But Lucifer just took another swig of whiskey and tucked his flask away. Chloe reminded herself that, to someone with literally more money than God, a couple of million was probably pocket change.

“Okay, look into the family,” she told Dan. “See if someone had something to gain from Mrs. Sheetle’s death.”

Dan nodded, and Chloe turned to Ella. “See if you can find some prints on the broken door lock, and check out the inside. Maybe you can get a feel for what’s missing. Knowing what they took might give us a clue as to who was stealing from her.”

“Or if it was personal, maybe the robbery was staged,” Dan suggested.

“It’s possible,” Chloe agreed. “Look out for signs of that, too.”

“We’re on it,” said Ella, and she and Dan headed inside the house. Lucifer, meanwhile, was watching Chloe expectantly. 

“Any orders for me, Detective?” he asked.

“Because you’d follow them?” she countered, sarcastic.

Like a shark scenting blood in the water, Lucifer noticed her unwilling amusement. He dropped his voice and stepped closer. “I might,” he said. “For you.”

Chloe felt a little thrill of desire flicker through her, but she took a step back. They were at work, after all. 

“Dead body,” she said bluntly, and not just because of the adorable way his nose wrinkled up at the words. “Come on,” she added, taking his hand and leading him back towards the miniature barn. 

As she’d imagined, the shed was too small for him, and much too small for the two of them plus the dead woman on the floor. The air was thick with the scent of pine and copper, and the single lightbulb dangling a few inches above Chloe’s hair gave off a lot of heat but not much light. 

Chloe carefully stepped around the yellow evidence markers and examined the wall of tools. At her side, almost too close, Lucifer did the same. 

“I’m fairly certain that Maze has a set of those,” he said, pointing at a large pair of wooden-handled hedge trimmers. “They’re not as much fun as you might think.”

Chloe chose not to reply to that. There was a shadow on the edge of the blades, but she couldn’t tell if it was a stain or just her eyes playing tricks. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, and the metal gleamed under the blue-white light, perfectly clean. 

“Damn,” she sighed.

“He’d have to be a small man,” said Lucifer, moving suddenly. Before Chloe could stop him, he was throwing his arms around like he was stabbing someone. 

“Not much room to maneuver,” he added. “I mean, I can do it, but...”

Chloe watched him weave around the cramped interior, expertly avoiding the walls, the body, and Ella’s carefully placed evidence tags. He was light on his feet, his movements quick but perfectly controlled with a beautiful, dangerous elegance.

It made the tiny hairs on Chloe’s arms stand on end. How had she ever thought he was human?

“Lucifer,” she said, so he’d stop. 

He glanced in her direction, and all his grace disappeared. He stepped on an evidence marker and slid forward. The hand he threw out to catch himself knocked three tools to the floor with a series of comical thumps, and Chloe caught a flash of actual concern in his face when he realized it wasn’t going to be enough to slow his momentum. 

She reacted on instinct and caught him with both hands, clutching his forearms tightly, before he could face-plant into poor dead Mrs. Sheetle. 

“Good reflexes, Detective,” he said. His face was just inches from hers, and when she inhaled, she could smell the subtle spice of his cologne.

“Yeah,” she murmured. He was more than steady on his feet now, but she didn’t let go. 

Under her fingers, his suit jacket was soft, but it carried the stiffness of freshly dry-cleaned wool. She’d touched his clothing only a handful of times over the years, and for some reason it felt more intimate now, even more than the new, often naked, dynamic of their partnership. 

“Detective,” he said again, not quite a question. 

Her eyes met his, before they were drawn irresistibly down to his mouth. It would be easy to pull him into her arms, to breathe him in more deeply, to close the gap between them that seemed both tiny and enormous. 

It would be so easy— she just wanted—

“Got something!” Ella’s triumphant voice interrupted suddenly. 

Lucifer moved too fast for her to see. He extracted himself from Chloe’s grasp, his lips brushing her fingertips, and then he was stepping away, greeting Ella at the door to the garden shed.

Chloe drew in a somewhat shaky breath and shook her head to clear it. This wasn’t the time or the place to be distracted— there was a dead body literally at her feet, and a murderer to catch. She pulled a pair of gloves out of her back pocket and put them on, trapping the feel of Lucifer’s kiss against her skin until the next time they could touch.

**Author's Note:**

> Devil's Bloom is not a real flower; however, I based it on the Black Baccara rose, which is stunning.


End file.
